We are rapidly approaching the two month mark in Scotland, and in certain ways, I can see how the next year (or longer) is going to fly by. Our little family is busy doing all the normal things, plus trying to see our new city and country. Most moments are fun. Most of the time it's unbelievable to see my almost three year old grow exponentially as a direct result of where we are, and to see my husband blossom in a new position.
There are hard moments though, and if I had to put a label on them (which I'm about to!), I'd say they are all elements of one large problem:
I love control.
I love to be in control; I love to know exactly what's going on and where I fit; I love to know what's coming next; I love to always have a Plan B if things don't go right. You get the idea.
Oh, and times this by one million with kids.
(And this isn't to say that I'm a total stick in the mud, or that I don't like adventure. Because I do. As long as it's planned out. HA. Also, having a plan isn't always bad. And control--in moderation--is important. But that's not the point of this post)
Anyways, I've learned after leaving my comfortable home, my friends and family, my car, and other material blessings, that I like control a little too much and that I "balk" (okay, sometimes rage and cry) at having it stripped away. Here are a few situations that have driven this lesson home:
-Walking into our new home and discovering that we had no idea how to turn the power on, nor any instruction manual or guidelines to help. (Thanks to the friendly policemen who helped us figure this out.)
-Knowing that we needed a key for the "bin room in the lane" for large rubbish bags but a)didn't know where the lane was and b) didn't know how to acquire a key. (Thankful for a kind neighbor who allowed me to copy hers.)
-Having three different neighbors come tell us that our pram was causing problems in the building and essentially that everyone disliked us for having one (Same kind neighbor helped me figure out the door/latch situation.Jury's still out on the rest of the neighbors, ha.)
-Being stuck all the way across London on a tour bus during rush hour when both the kids were melting down, knowing simultaneously that other people on the bus were judging me and that I had no way of getting us home any faster (Kids fell asleep in sticky, sweaty puddles on me; we survived and lived to tell the tale.)
-Trying to get home on the bus from the city centre in Glasgow, in the rain, while normal bus routes were suspended on two sequential days for two completely different reasons (Had to walk a long ways and take a different bus. Both times. Not my favorite set of experiences.)
-Looking at the weather forecast, realizing it's going to be in the 40s this week (IN AUGUST), and also ascertaining that we haven't the foggiest idea how to turn on the mysterious heating system (tricksy husband for the win! A victory woneven as I typed tonight).
-Getting anywhere at any point for any reason--obviously this is an exaggeration, but not having a car is an unbelievable loss of control. I can't control (as much) what the kids see; who they encounter; how speedily we get somewhere, etc. We are at the mercy of bus timetables and city events. Not to mention toddler pace, millions of request for treats, baby shenanigans, etc. Also their meltdowns are no longer contained in a car for just me to hear. There is no rushing them to the car to regain control of a situation. My parenting is on display all.the.time, and boy is that a humbling reality!
There are lots of positives to this type of living as well, both for me as a sinful, flawed parent, and for the growth of my kids. I know God is teaching me a larger lesson about Who is in control (and who is not!) and what that means in the daily grind of life. When I talk about surrendering to His will or holding my life with an open hand, it's not just a big picture thing.
And that's good. But it's definitely not easy.
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